Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [68]
“I only ran,” he told her, “so I could have a chance to free you later on.”
Guinan could hear the unmistakable sincerity in his voice. It made her ashamed of herself for doubting him.
“But you jeopardized your mission,” she told him.
“And I would do it again,” Picard assured her.
Unbelievable, she thought. She was starting to get a lump in her throat.
“The question,” she said, before it could get any worse, “is what took you so long? I was in that cell for almost an hour.”
Picard chuckled. “I was just waiting for the right moment—the way you would have.”
For the first time since she left the Nexus, Guinan broke out in a smile.
But then, she had a reason, didn’t she? Her faith in her companion had been restored. Once again, he was the wise and courageous man who had risked everything for her.
And not just once, but twice.
Dropping out of the hatch at the end of the access tube, Enabran Tain joined Karrid and Beylen.
Fortunately, there was no one else around to witness their exit, just as there had been no one around to witness their entrance. However, the glinn told himself, that was the only sense in which they had been fortunate.
“Let’s get out of here,” he snarled.
As they made their way toward the nearest airlock, which joined the Chezzulid vessel with an unoccupied Droonan scout ship, Tain went over what had happened in his mind.
Despite everything, the human had betrayed him. It was clear now that he had never intended to allow Tain to get his hands on the female. He had planned this outcome from the beginning.
Could the Cardassian have foreseen such a betrayal? Could he have prevented it? Of course. And without question, he should have.
But he had been too eager to get his hands on Picard’s companion and then on Demmix, and he had allowed that eagerness to blind him. And now he had nothing to show for his efforts but a cut above his eye and a frost-damaged hide.
Had he and his men not evacuated the tube so quickly, it might have gone even worse for them. At least they had escaped with their lives.
As always, Tain kept his curses to himself. However, his face burned with shame for the way he had been outmaneuvered.
He wasn’t used to it, especially at the hands of a mere alien. On one hand, he had to confess a certain admiration for Picard’s talent in the area of duplicity.
On the other, he felt an insatiable thirst for revenge.
Chapter Sixteen
NIKOLAS TOOK A DEEP BREATH and let it out very, very slowly. “That’s when he told me he didn’t want me back until I was ready to concentrate on my work.”
Obal frowned from his seat across the dining table. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said over the murmur of voices in the mess hall. “Lieutenant Simenon has the captain’s ear.”
“Oh,” said Nikolas, “I have no doubt that Captain Picard will come looking for me the moment he comes back. And not just because of Lieutenant Simenon. Lieutenant Vigo is looking at me funny now. I figure he’s the next one to rake me over the coals.”
Obal looked concerned. “Perhaps you should consider speaking with Doctor Greyhorse. I’m sure you’re not the first crewman who has had trouble falling asleep.”
Nikolas shook his head. “Sleep isn’t the problem, Obal. Not really. What I’m in need of, Greyhorse can’t prescribe.”
The Binderian fell silent, an expression of acute disappointment on his small, pink face.
Inwardly, the ensign cursed himself. All Obal was trying to do was give his friend a little hope, and Nikolas was resisting it at every turn.
But what he had said was true. Greyhorse couldn’t help him. As far as he could tell, no one could.
“Listen,” he told Obal, “I know you want to give me a hand, and I appreciate it—I really do. But trust me when I tell you that you’re wasting your time. There’s no cure for what I’ve got. There’s no treatment.”
“You can’t allow yourself to think that way,” the Binderian insisted. “You’ve got to be positive in your attitude.”
Nikolas smiled bitterly. “I’m positive, all right. I’m positive